The Major—strongly affected himself by this time—was the first to break the silence.
“Sit down again,” he said; “and pray take the easy-chair. You are very much agitated; you want rest.”
He was right. I could stand no longer; I dropped into the chair. Major Fitz-David rang the bell, and spoke a few words to the servant at the door.
“I have been here a long time,” I said, faintly. “Tell me if I am in the way.”
“In the way?” he repeated, with his irresistible smile. “You forget that you are in your own house!”
The servant returned to us, bringing with him a tiny bottle of champagne and a plateful of delicate little sugared biscuits.
“I have had this wine bottled expressly for the ladies,” said the Major. “The biscuits came to me direct from Paris. As a favor to me, you must take some refreshment. And then—” He stopped and looked at me very attentively. “And then,” he resumed, “shall I go to my young prima donna upstairs and leave you here alone?”
It was impossible to hint more delicately at the one request which I now had it in my mind to make to him. I took his hand and pressed it gratefully.
“The tranquillity of my whole life to come is at stake,” I said. “When I am left here by myself, does your generous sympathy permit me to examine everything in the room?”
He signed to me to drink the champagne and eat a biscuit before he gave his answer.